THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. DUKE OF VENICE. PERSONS REPRESENTED. PRINCE OF MOROCCO,Suitors to Portia. PRINCE OF ARRAGON, ANTONIO, the Merchant of Venice. BASSANIO, his Friend. SALANIO, SALERIO, a Messenger from Venice. LEONARDO, Servant to Bassanio. BALTHAZAR, Servants to Portia. STEPHANO, PORTIA, a rich Heiress. SALARINO,Friends to Antonio and Bassanio. NERISSA, her Waiting-maid. GRATIANO, LORENZO, in love with Jessica. SHYLOCK, a Jew. TUBAL, a Jew, his Friend. LAUNCELOT GOBBO, a Clown, Servant to Shy lock. OLD GOBBO, Father to Launcelot. JESSICA, Daughter to Shylock. Magnificoes of Venice, Officers of the Court of Justice, Jailer, Servants, and other Attendants. SCENE, partly at Venice, and partly at Belmont, the Seat of Portia, on the Continent. ACT I. SCENE 1.-Venice.-A Street. And such a want-wit sadness makes of me, Salar. Your mind is tossing on the ocean; As they fly by them with their woven wings. Salar. My wind, cooling my broth, To think on this; and shall I lack the thought, you merry, If worthier friends had not prevented me. You grow exceeding strange: Must it be so? Salar. We'll make our leisures to attend on yours. [Exeunt SALARINO and SALANIO. Lor. My Lord Bassanio, since you have found We two will leave you: but, at dinner time, Antonio, I pray you, have in mind where we must meet. Bass. I will not fail you. Gra You look not well, signior Antonio; A stage, where every man must play a part, Gra. Let me play the Fool: ears, [fools. Which, hearing them, would call their brothers, Lor. Well, we will leave you then till din ner-time : I must be one of these same dumb wise men, more, mendable Lie all unlock'd to your occasions. I shot his fellow of the self-same flight Ant. You know me well; and herein spend To wind about my love with circumstance; And many Jasons come in quest of her. Gra. Well, keep me company but two years Thou shalt not know the sound of thine own [tongue. Ant. Farewell: I'll grow a talker for this gear. Gra. Thanks, i'faith; for silence only is comIn a neat's tongue dried, and a maid not vendi[ble. [Exeunt GRATIANO and LORENZO. Ant. Is that any thing now? Bass. Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of nothing, more than any man in all Venice: His reasons are as two grains of wheat hid in two bushels of chaff; you shall seek all day ere you find them; and, when you have them, they SCENE II.-Belmont.-A Room in PORTIA'S are not worth the search. Ant. Well; tell me now,what lady is this same Bass. "Tis not unknown to you, Antonio, Ant. I pray you, good Bassanio, let me know bstinate silence. House Enter PORTIA and NERISSA. [Exeunt. Por. By my troth, Nerissa, my little body is a-weary of this great world. Ner. You would be, sweet madam, if your miseries were in the same abundance as your good fortunes are: And, yet, for aught I see, they are as sick, that surfeit with too much, as they that starve with nothing: It is no mean happiness therefore, to be seated in the mean; superfluity comes sooner by white hairs, but competency lives longer. Por. Good sentences, and well pronounced. Ner. They would be better, if well followed. Por. If to do were as easy as to know what were good to do, chapels had been churches, and poor men's cottages, princes' palaces. It is a good divine, that follows his own instructions: I can easier teach twenty what were good to be done, than be one of the twenty to follow mine own teaching. The brain may devise laws for the blood; but a hot temper leaps ver a cold decree: such a hare is madness the youth, to skip o'er the meshes of good counsel the cripple. But this reasoning is not in the fashion to choose me a husband:-O me, the word choose! I may neither choose whom I would, nor refuse whom I dislike; so is the will of a living daughter curb'd by the will of a dead father:-Is it not hard, Nerissa, that I cannot choose one, nor refuse none? Ner. Your father was ever virtuous; and holy men, at their death, have good inspirations; therefore, the lottery, that he hath devised in these three chests, of gold, silver, and lead, (whereof who chooses his meaning, chooses you,) will, no doubt, never be chosen by any rightly, but one who you shall rightly love. But what warmth is there in your affection towards any of these princely suitors that are already come? Por. I pray thee, overname them; and as thou namest them, I will describe them: and, according to my description, level at my affection. Ner. First, there is the Neapolitan prince. Por. Ay, that's a colt, indeed, for he doth nothing but talk of his horse; and he makes it a great appropriation to his good parts, that he can shoe him himself: I am much afraid, my lady his mother played false with a smith. Ner. Then, is there the county† Palatine. Por. He doth nothing but frown; as who should say, An if you will not have me, choose: he hears merry tales, and smiles not: I fear, he will prove the weeping philosopher when he grows old, being so full of unmannerly sadness in his youth. I had rather be married to a death's head with a bone in his mouth, than to either of these. God defend me from these two! Ner. How say you by the French lord, Mon sieur Le Bon ? Por. God made him, and therefore let him pass for a man. In truth, I know it is a sin to be a mocker; But, he! why, he hath a horse better than the Neapolitan's; a better bad habit of frowning than the count Palatine: he is every man in no man: if a throstle sing, be falls straight a capering; he will fence with his own shadow: if I should marry him, I should marry twenty husbands: If he would despise me, I would forgive him; for if he love me to madness, I shall never requite him. Ner. What say you then to Faulconbridge, the young baron of England? Por. You know, I say nothing to him; for he understands not me, nor I him: he hath neither Latin, French, nor Italian; and you will come into the court and swear, that I have a poor penny-worth in the English. He is a proper man's picture; But, alas! who can converse with a dumb show? How oddly he is suited! I think, he bought his doublet in Italy, his round hose in France, his bonnet in Germany, and his behaviour every where. Ner. What think you of the Scottish lord, his neighbour? Por. That he hath a neighbourly charity in him; for he borrowed a box of the ear of the Englishman, and swore he would pay him again, when he was able: I think, the Frenchman became his surety, and sealed under for another. Ner. How like you the young German, the duke of Saxony's nephew? Por. Very vilely in the morning, when he is sober; and most vilely in the afternoon, when he is drunk: when he is best, he is little worse than a man; and when he is worst, he is little better than a beast: an the worst fall that ever fell, I hope I shall make shift to go without him. Ner. If he should offer to choose, and choose the right casket, you should refuse to perform your father's will, if you should refuse to accept him. Por. Therefore, for fear of the worst, I pray. thee, set a deep glass of Rhenish wine on the contrary casket: for, if the devil be within, and that temptation without, I know he will choose it. I will do any thing, Nerissa, ere I will be married to a sponge. Ner. You need not fear, lady, the having any of these lords; they have acquainted me, with their determination: which is indeed, to' return to their home, and to trouble you with no more suit; unless you may be won by some other sort than your father's imposition, depending on the caskets. Por. If I live to be as old as Sibylla, I will die as chaste as Diana, unless I be ab-. tained by the manner of my father's will: I am glad this parcel of wooers are so reasonable; for there is not one among them but I dote on his very absence, and I pray God grant them a fair departure. Ner. Do you not remember, lady, in your father's time, a Venetian, a scholar, and a soldier, that came hither in company of the marquis of Montferrat? Per. Yes, yes, it was Bassanio; as I think so was he called. Ner. True, madam; he, of all the men that ever my foolish eyes looked upon, was the best deserving a fair lady. Por. I remember him well; and I remember him worthy of thy praise.-How now! what news? Enter a SERVANT. Serv. The four strangers seek for you, madam, to take their leave: and there is a forerunner come from a fifth, the prince of Morocco; who brings word, the prince, his master, will be here to-night. Por. If I could bid the fifth welcome with so good a heart as I can bid the other four farewell, I should be glad of his approach: if he have the condition of a saint, and the complexion of a devil, I had rather he should shrive me than wive me. Come, Nerissa.-Sirrah, go before.-Whiles we shut the gate upon one wooer, another knocks at the door. [Exeunt. SCENE III.-Venice.-A public place. Bass. For the which, as I told you, Antonio shall be bound. Shy. Antonio shall become bound,-well. Bass. May you stead me? Will you pleasure me? Shall I know your answer? Shy. Three thousand ducats, for three months, and Antonio bound. Bass. Your answer to that. Temper, qualities Shy. Antonio is a good man. Bass. Have you heard any imputation to the contrary? Shy. Ho, no, no, no, no;—my meaning, in saying he is a good man, is to have you understand me, that he is sufficient: yet his means are in supposition: he hath an argosy bound to Tripolis, another to the Indies; I understand moreover upon the Rialto, he hath a third at Mexico, a fourth for England, and other ventures he hath, squander'd abroad: But ships are but boards, sailors but men: there be land-rats, and water-rats, waterthieves, and land-thieves; I mean, pirates; and then, there is the peril of waters, winds, and rocks: The man is, notwithstanding, sufficient;-three thousand ducats;-I think, I may take his bond. Bass. Be assured you may. Shy. I will be assured, 1 may; and, that I may be assured, I will bethink me: May I speak with Antonio? Bass. If it please you to dine with us. Shy. Yes, to smell pork; to eat of the habitation which your prophet, the Nazarite, conjured the devil into: I will buy with you, sell with you, talk with you, walk with you, and so following; but I will not eat with you, drink with you, nor pray with you. What news on the Rialto?-Who is he comes here? Enter ANTONIO. Bass. This is signior Antonio. Ant. And what of him? did he take interest? Shy. No, not take interest; not, as you would say, Directly interest: mark what Jacob did. When Laban and himself were compromis'd, That all the eanlings which were streak'd and pied, [rank, Should fall as Jacob's hire; the ewes, being In the end of autumn turned to the rams: And when the work of generation was Between these woolly breeders in the act, The skilful shepherd peel'd me certain wands, And, in the doing of the deed of kind,* He stuck them up before the fulsome ewes; Who, then conceiving, did in eaning time Fall party-colour'd lambs, and those were Jacob's. This was a way to thrive, and he was biest; And thrift is blessing, if men steal it not. Ant. This was a venture, Sir, that Jacob serv'd for; A thing not in his power to bring to pass, Was this inserted to make interest good? Ant. Mark you this, Bassanio, The devil can cite scripture for his purpose. Shy. [Aside.] How like a fawning publican O, what a goodly outside falsehood hath! he looks! I hate him for he is a Christian : He lends out money gratis, and brings down I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him. He hates our sacred nation; and he rails, Even there where merchants most do congregate, On me, my bargains, and my well-won thrift, Which he calls interest: Cursed be my tribe, If I forgive him! Buss. Shylock, do you hear? Shy. I am debating of my present store; Shy. Ay, ay, three thousand ducats. Shy. I had forgot,-three months, you told Shy. Three thousand ducats,-'tis a good round sum. [rate. Three months from twelve, then let me see the Ant. Well, Shylock, shall we be beholden to you? Shy. Signior Antonio, many a time and oft, A cur can lend three thousand ducats? or Fair Sir, you spit on me on Wednesday last; Ant. I am as like to call thee so again, Who, if he break, thou may'st with better face Exact the penalty. Shy. Why, look you, how you storm! I would be friends with you, and have your love, [with, Forget the shames that you have stain'd me Supply your present wants, and take no doit + Interest. Natu Of usance for my monies, and you'll not hear | His wife, who wins me by that means I told This is kind I offer. Ant. This were kindness. [me: Shy. This kindness will I show :- And say, there is much kindness in the Jew. Whose own hard dealings teaches them suspect A pound of man's flesh, taken from a man, Ant. Yes, Shylock, I will seal unto this bond. [Exit. Ant. Hie thee, gentle Jew. [kind. This Hebrew will turn Christian; he grows Bass. I like not fair terms, and a villain's mind. Ant. Come on: in this there can be no dismay, My ships come home a month before the day. [Exeunt. ACT II. SCENE 1.-Belmont.-A Room in PORTIA'S House. Flourish of Cornets. Enter the PRINCE OF MoROCCO, and his Train; PORTIA, NERISSA, and other of her Attendants. Mor. Mislike me not for my complexion, The shadow'd livery of the burnish'd sun, To whom I am a neighbour, and near bred. Bring me the fairest creature northward born, Where Phoebus' fire scarce thaws the icicles, And let us make incisiont for your love, To prove whose blood is reddest, his, or mine. I tell thee, lady, this aspect of mine Hath fear'd; the valiant; by my love, I swear, The best-regarded virgins of our clime Have lov'd it too: I would not change this hue, Except to steal your thoughts, my gentle queen. Por. In terms of choice I am not solely led By nice direction of a maiden's eyes: Besides the lottery of my destiny Bars me the right of voluntary choosing: But, if my father had not scanted me, And hedg'd me by his wit, to yield myself you, Yourself, renowned prince, then stood as fair, Mor. Even for that I thank you: Yea, mock the lion when he roars for prey, Por. You must take your chance; Mor. Nor will not; come, bring me unto my SCENE II.-Venice.-A Street. Enter LAUNCElot Gobbo. Laun. Certainly my conscience will serve me to run from this Jew, my master: The fiend is at mine elbow; and tempts me, saying to me, Gobbo, Launcelot Gobbo, good Launcelot, or good Gobbo, or good Launcelot Gobbo, use your legs, take the start, run away: My conscience says,no; take heed honest Launcelot; take heed, honest Gobbo; or, as aforesaid, honest Launcelot Gobbo; do not run; scorn running with thy heels: Well, the most courageous fiend bids me pack; via! says the fiend; away! says the fiend, for the heavens; rouse up a brave mind, says the fiend, and run. Well, my conscience, hanging about the neck of my heart, says very wisely to me, my honest friend Launcelot, being an honest man's son,-or rather an honest woman's son; for, indeed, my father did something smack, something grow to, he had a kind of taste; well, my conscience says, Launcelot, budge not; budge, says the fiend; budge not, says my conscience: Conscience, says I, you counsel well; fiend, says I, you counsel well: to be ruled by my conscience, I should stay with the Jew my master, who, (God bless the mark!) is a kind of devil; and, to run away from the Jew, I should be ruled by the fiend, who, saving your reverence, is the devil himself: Certainly, the Jew is the very devil incarna tion; and, in my conscience, my conscience is but a kind of hard conscience, to offer to counsel me to stay with the Jew: The fiend rives the more friendly counsel: I will run, fiend; my heels are at your commandment, I will run. Enter old GOBBO, with a Basket. Gob. Master, young man, you, I pray you; which is the way to master Jew's? Not precipitate. |